Please don't shout at me for leaving this so long for an update...I am truly sorry, I have had a complete life change recently so have been busy doing stuff on weekends which is normally my writing time. Basically my life has been utter chaos since June...So apologies if this chapter is ropey, I'm afraid it's taken a while to get back into the swing of writing...and get back into the story. I had to re-read the whole thing to remind myself what it is I'm supposed to be writing about, I imagine all u guys have forgotten it too! Anyways, I do intend to get this finished. This Ch is the start of the last part of the story and is loosely based on 'The Burning' ep but I am not going to write it exactly as it is...because that would be dull to read...
Chapter 29
Gene and Alex made their way up the staircase to Leroy's flat above Luigi's.
"He'd better bloody well be there or I'l 'ave 'is balls – sick my arse…" ranted Gene.
"So unlike him." Alex shook her head in disappointment. "I thought he had really settled and was part of the team."
"If 'es not there he can consider 'imself off the team I'll kick 'is arse back to New York."
Leroy had phoned in sick two weeks ago and nobody had heard anything from him since despite repeated attempts to contact him. It was a mystery. Leroy had settled and was working well with the other officers. His attention detail and dogged determination to solve cases had impressed Gene, but now Gene was viewing him as a liability. At first Gene had been worried that New York had caught up with, but Captain O'Grady had reassured him that New York was still clueless as to his whereabouts. "That makes bloody two of us!" came the Guv's terse reply. Alex had tried to assure Gene that there had to be a good explanation for Leroy going awol. Alex sensed that there was something a foot, her ever vivid dreams convinced her all the more, but even she had to concede that the lack of contact was unacceptable. Didn't Leroy trust them enough to let them in?
Gene raised a gloved hand and pounded the door. "Leroy! Open the door." He yelled "Lieutenant Banks, I am warning you, open this sodding door or I will be forced to kick it in."
They waited and counted to ten to give Leroy the chance to make it to the door – no sign of movement could be heard.
"Right then!" said Gene "You've asked for it."
Gene was about to shoulder the door off its hinges when Alex stopped him by planting a firm hand on his chest. "There is a subtle way of doing this you know." Alex produced a set of keys from her pocket and dangled them under Gene's nose. Gene looked at her questioningly. "Spare set." replied Alex "No need for your bull in a china shop routine."
Gene snatched the keys from her "Why didn't you ruddy well say?"
"As usual you didn't ask."
Gene quickly unlocked the door and barged into the flat making a beeline straight for the bedroom. On reaching the bed it became apparent Leroy wasn't there. The bedclothes had been neatly folded into a pile and set down at the end of the bed as if waiting for its next occupant. Gene threw open the wardrobe door only to find just few shirts and jacket hanging along with rows of empty hangers "he's done a runner, the bastard has done a runner."
Alex joined him by his side to inspect the wardrobe "He can't have done, Gene he simply wouldn't have disappeared…..he needs us. Besides, I don't think someone 'doing a runner'" She waggled her punctuation fingers annoyingly at him, "Would bother to fold up the bed sheets ….do you?"
"Oh right Bolls…" he waved at the empty cupboard "You think he's decided to take all 'is clothes to the dry cleaners eh?" He marched back into the lounge area, his eyes scanning the sparse room for any clues…"Or maybe he's moved in with that Maddy bird." He said sarcastically.
"He might of if he really is that poorly."
"Then why hasn't she told us, she must know why he's here and it's important we keep tabs on 'im? Sick people don't have the energy to fold up bed sheets."
"Maybe Maddy did it. I doubt she does know, Harry has no idea what Dempsey's doing here, would be the same for her." Alex could hear the words coming out of her mouth, but wasn't convinced of them herself. It was hard to argue against the evidence before them. It really did look like Leroy had done a bunk.
"Where is he then? You think 'es done a runner because of this New York shit? I don't see Dempsey running away." Gene's bright blue eyes shone with bubbling anger. He always felt that he gave his officers 110% and he expected nothing less in return. He'd expect the odd hiccup, his officers' were only human, but Gene felt this was taking the piss.
Alex shrugged "I don't know, I really don't know – he wouldn't have been stupid enough to return to New York – would he?"
"Nah, he maybe a Yank, but he's a bright Yank, a rare occurrence I know."
"Maybe Maddy does know where he is?" Alex stood with one hand on her hip while she unconsciously rubbed her growing belly. "Maybe Dempsey does – I really don't have a clue."
Gene turned on his heel and marched out of the flat leaving Alex tottering to catch him up. "Bolls I suggest go and have one of ye girly chats. I've got a station full of officers who want to bet here to run."
"So, we could be walking into an ambush?" Said Harry sat in the passenger seat of Dempsey's Merc.
"Not if I can help it." mumbled Dempsey "Need to find out what's going on. The guy said he wanted to make some kinda deal." Dempsey had explained little to Harry. He had told her about the phone call, but had neglected to tell her about the note and the fact he had been instructed to go to the office at that ungodly hour of the morning. He had weighed up the situation in his head, however he had decided, on balance, that it was better for Harry to accompany him to the meet. Not only did he feel he would need back up, but he felt he was happier keeping her in sight. The more he thought about it though, the more it irked him. Something just didn't smell right.
Harry didn't hesitate in going with him; in fact she would have been upset if he insisted she'd stay away. She had insisted that Spikings was kept in the loop though. Dempsey had agreed thinking it would be safer to and as far as he knew, there was no good reason not to tell the chief. He was meeting an informant, that's it, an informant.
Dempsey approached the old warehouse with caution. The Merc's tyres squelched their way through the black mud towards the derelict skeleton of a building. Harry mused to herself, as she looked at the decaying concrete and metal, that criminals never seemed to be creative with their choice of meeting places. They always chose the dirtiest, in-hospitable locations to do their business deals, then again 80s London had plenty to choose from.
Dempsey brought the Merc to a halt at a safe distance and peered through the drizzle at another car where 3 men stood ready to meet them. They stood confidently, perfectly comfortable being exposed in full view in the open.
Both Dempsey and Makepeace weighed the men up. They weren't familiar, but had the usual look of gang member bout them.
The men waited patiently for the officers to get out of the car. Dempsey indicated to Harry to cover him as he slowly ventured forward, ears and eyes tuned for any sign of trouble. He knew he was sitting target out there in plain sight, but he also knew Harry would be scanning the scene for any sense movement.
Dempsey got half way between Harry and the small group of men and stopped, that was close enough. "You called, whaddya want?"
The tall man at the front of the group looked impassively at Dempsey, so much so Dempsey was finding it hard to read him. He definitely wasn't an informant. Was he about to be warned off, had he trod on some Mr Big's toes? The tall man stepped forward brandishing a thick brown envelope. Not wanting to get too close to Dempsey either, he held the packet at arm's length and waited for Dempsey to take it off him. "There's 40 thousand in there, all used notes."
Dempsey didn't move. All his experience was telling him he was being set up and he would bet there was someone ready with a camera to capture the evidence. "What's that for?" motioned Dempsey.
"You've been asking a lot of questions round Millwall way. This is to tie your tongue."
Amused, Dempsey replied "I could have been asking directions to the nearest drugstore round Millwall way."
Harry watched on intently. They were always asking questions in that part of London due to area being a hive of criminal activity – so asking questions was a daily occurrence. She wracked her brains trying to think which set of questions and to whom would warrant a payoff of £40,000 – no, there were too many likely suspects to be able to pin it down, she gave up.
"You know, I don't ….." Confidently said the man.
Dempsey gave a wry smile "You picked the wrong cop buddy, I don't take bribes from no-one and ain't bout to start now."
Dempsey was about to take a step forward when the gang's car erupted with an ear-splitting boom, blowing the doors off, sending flames high in the air and flattening the men stood by it. Dempsey instinctively dived to the ground as Harry crouched by the Merc for protection. In a heartbeat gunshots rang out in the smoke filled air – they were under fire. Dempsey hurled himself behind some oil drums for cover and with lightening reactions he un-holstered his gun and fired back at a masked gunman perched on the roof of a warehouse. Boom! The Magnum rang out 2, 3, 4 times then the gunman froze. A shot had hit him square in the chest. In slow motion he fell downwards to the rain-soaked mud beneath.
Harry raced over to the gang man who had taken the full force of the blast. She checked for a pulse and shouted back at Dempsey "He's still alive, I'll get an ambulance."
Dempsey was already striding across to the side of the warehouse, expecting to find a body. As he turned the corner he baulked in surprise. There was the masked man's rifle and a pool of blood where he had been lying, but no body.
Amazed he could survive a bullet and a fall from that height, Dempsey cautiously followed the droplets of blood which spotted the earth and the concrete doorway of the warehouse. Heart thumping he inched along the corridor following the red trail. However, the gunman was not finished yet. He waited patiently, albeit in considerable pain, by an old open hatch a floor above Dempsey. Hand -gun shakily aimed ready to fire. As Dempsey appeared in the gap, the gunman fired twice– and missed. Dempsey's Magnum replied with one shot. Dempsey deliberately risked moving to the other side of the hatch to draw his assailant's fire – it worked, the gunman in desperation fired down the hole 3 times. Dempsey was counting, he had one more shot. He quickly reloaded and as he passed the hatch opening for the third time he counted the gunman's last shot and returned fire, this time striking the masked man in the shoulder.
The gunman yelped in pain and slumped backwards.
Dempsey gambled that the gunman only had the one firearm and slowly ascended the metal staircase to the next the floor. There he found the gunman using the last of his strength to prop himself up. Shakily he aimed his gun at Dempsey and fired, but all he heard was the click of the empty barrel. Dempsey counted again, just to be sure…. 1 click, 2 click…with each click Dempsey took another wary step closer, all the time staring into the gunman's eyes with perplexed curiosity – he felt sure he knew the man.
3 click, 4 click, 5 click….ever closer.
With great effort the masked gunman aimed one more time and croaked in a New York accent "Dempsey…this is from Coltrane." Click!
Dempsey stared in horror as the gunman lost consciousness and fell through the hatch, visions of shooting dead his ex-partner Joey on a bitterly cold New York morning flicked through his mind.
The gunman landed with a thud at Harry's feet. She instinctively removed his mask and confused yelled up at Dempsey "What on earth is he talking about? Who's Coltrane?"
But Dempsey's eyes were fixed on the face of the gunman. Harry had never seen her partner like this. Dempsey was clearly shaking with fear with the expression of puzzlement, disbelief and terror written across his face. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as he remained transfixed by the lifeless body of Dan, his ex NYPD colleague. Coltrane had found him – he was no-longer safe….
